


maybe i just wanna be yours

by dicktective



Category: Kings
Genre: 7 minutes in heaven, Alternate Universe - Everyone Is Happy/Nobody is in Hiding, Blow Jobs, Facials, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Blow Jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2014-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-26 17:57:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1697297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dicktective/pseuds/dicktective
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s so perfectly ironic, just… David’s existence. Everything that’s happened. Mr. Right Time and Right Place. With saving his life, with the Goliath, with this party just starting to lose steam. But in walks Gilboa’s hero and Jack can feel the change in atmosphere, like a quiet hum has changed into an electric buzz.</p>
            </blockquote>





	maybe i just wanna be yours

**Author's Note:**

> anonymous asked: jack and david // seven minutes in heaven
> 
> here’s my attempt at a fill, not REALLY 7 minutes in heaven as a game but definitely in name (i, on the other hand will spend an eternity in hell cause this is str8 up pwp).
> 
> some sort of au in which everyone is (comparatively) happy and nobody is exiled or in hiding. inspired by why’d you only call me when you’re high. title from wanna be yours. damn u arctic monkeys.
> 
> { [original tumblr post](http://dicktective.tumblr.com/post/86977282812/jack-and-david-number-16-seven-minutes-in-heaven-oh) }

David shows up to the party around what might be considered 1AM to some, but what Jack likes to call Perfect Timing. Which is fitting, you know, having David show up at 1AM since he is, himself, Mr. Perfect Timing.

It’s so perfectly ironic, just… David’s existence. Everything that’s happened. Mr. Right Time and Right Place. With saving his life, with the Goliath, with this party just starting to lose steam. But in walks Gilboa’s hero and Jack can feel the change in atmosphere, like a quiet hum has changed into an electric buzz.

David notices him, finally, and starts to where Jack is leaning against the bar. He’s pretty sure if the bar wasn’t there to lean against, he would be using the floor instead.

He opens his arms wide as David shuffles between people to get through the club. “Shepherd!” He calls happily, waving away his security.

David looks grumpy, which isn’t uncommon, especially when he’s around Jack. “Why did you call me eight times?” David yells over the deafening music.

"Did I?" Jack asks, taking a swig of his whiskey. "That seems a bit excessive."

"You left me three voicemails," David says with a sigh. "The first one you said I had a royal obligation to come to a party, the second one you said there was an emergency, and the third one you said there wasn’t actually an emergency, that I didn’t need to come to the party, and then talked for about five minutes about nonsense."

"And yet here you are," Jack says with a smile. "Don’t remember sending any of those, so I guess these are doing their job, yeah?" He waves to the bartender and puts up two fingers to get another round.

David’s shoulder sag in defeat and he slides up next to Jack at the bar. “One more drink for you and then I’m taking you home,” He says as the bartender drops off two glasses and gives them two fingers of whiskey. “I’d consider that a royal obligation.”

Jack scoffs and, before the bartender can leave, gets him to pour three shots of tequila. “So many obligations, David. Consider these another.” He passes them over and circles his wrist, spinning the whiskey in his own glass. “You said one drink for me, but didn’t quantify how many you’d have. It’s an order.”

David gives him a worried look, but takes one in hand, defeated. Jack has a way of… Well, he wouldn’t call it manipulating. But something close to that would be right. Influencing, maybe. A family trait.

David coughs and does the next shot and then the last, only taking a bite of the lime when he finishes all three. Jack can’t keep the smile off his face and claps him on the back, dragging his fingers deep into his shoulder.

Jack ducks in close to David’s ear, swaying a little, but he’s always been proud of how well he can hold his liquor. “I’m glad you came, you always seem to come through for me, David.”

"I was worried," David says simply, looking straight ahead. Jack can feel how tense David is with the closeness.

Jack slides his hand from David’s shoulder to his neck, thumb brushing against his earlobe, pulling him closer. “And I worry about you, friend. Too much time in the capital hasn’t been good for you.”

He lets go, turns away to take a purposeful drink, but glances back at Shepherd who’s cheeks have a brush of pink across them, and he considers his work here done.

"I’m going to get my coat," Jack says, slamming back the rest of his drink. "You checked your coat too, right, David?"

"I didn’t wear—" David starts.

"Well come help me find mine then," Jack cuts in. He turns to his security detail. "Bring the car around, boys. We’ll meet you outside."

Before he realizes it, he’s got his hand circling David’s wrist and is dragging him across the club, heart stammering out a rhythm that doesn’t match up with the music, which is drowning out everything else other than the feeling of David’s skin. Everything but the way David presses up against his back, breath going down the back of Jack’s neck, when they come to a standstill in a mass of grinding bodies.

He resists the urge to spin around and face David and see if the same look of want is there as it was the first time they did this. The last time. And the time before that.

Instead he makes it to the coat check and the guy sitting at the counter knows this routine well enough now that he ignores them as they slip into the closet.

David presses him against the wall of wool and fur and leather, kissing him hard on the mouth, and this is all Jack’s wanted all night. Fuck everything else. Fuck the girl that offered to give him a handjob in the limo on the way here. Fuck that guy who was undressing him with his eyes at the bar. This is what he came for.

He came for David grabbing both of his wrists and pressing his thumbs into the sensitive tendons. David shoving his legs apart to rut his dick against Jack’s thigh, already hard in his jeans. David sucking hard at the skin just below his ear. He came for David.

Or, rather, he plans to come for David.

Jack twists and catches David’s mouth with his, biting into his bottom lip and he’s breathing hard, feels his cock thickening where David is still rutting against his hip.

"I’m your future king," He says with a laugh. "Why aren’t you on your knees?"

David lets out a breathy laugh and kisses Jack hard, pressing him even further into the belongings of strangers. But, surrounded by the dust of others’, Jack knows to whom he belongs. And David, well, David belongs to him, whether he knows it or not. David belongs to his country and this country is Jack’s.

And Jack can have anything that he wants, anything in the world, and all he wants is what’s in front of him right now. Sliding down his torso, rutting up his shirt with needy hands, unzipping his fly and dragging his pants and briefs down agonizingly slow.

They’ve probably got about seven minutes before the drivers start to wonder where they are. Something about the way he’s completely hard and the way David’s licking his lips and stroking his hand up and down Jack’s cock keeps him from worrying that it will be a problem.

He tries to think of the way that he can return the favor but is distracted by David licking up the underside of his cock and then wrapping his lips around the head, hand still pumping. He takes him in deeper, adjusting how he’s kneeling, and begins to bob his head, hollowing out his cheeks every time he comes up and exhaling a harsh breath every time he goes back down.

It’s probably only seconds before Jack’s got his hands tugging at David’s hair, come painting David’s lips and chin. The aftershocks hit David’s cheek and then he offers a willing tongue as he takes Jack in his mouth again and swallows him clean with a pleased hum.

David stands then, hand pressed into his crotch and Jack pulls him in for a kiss, sweet and nothing like any kiss they’ve shared before. David is breathing hard, cheeks rosy and wet from watery eyes, and Jack runs his thumbs across his face to dry them.

"You are more than gorgeous," Jack says quietly. "If I believed in a God I would say that he’d spent more time creating you with his own two hands than he did creating the light and the heavens and all the world."

David presses his forehead to Jack’s closing his eyes.

"If he did, he made me for you. And likewise, made you for me with just as much thought and time."

Jack smiles, kisses David again, unzipping his jeans. “You make me want to believe in that God, a God that would be more generous than the one with which my father speaks. Fortunately for you, I don’t, and therefore feel no regret for what is about to happen next.”

**Author's Note:**

> say hi to me on tumblr! i'm [dicktecitve](http://dicktective.tumblr.com)!


End file.
